


Stupid Satan

by fuckyeahlucifersupernatural



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 19:13:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/397246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural/pseuds/fuckyeahlucifersupernatural
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer is tired of having Sam continue on ignoring him and easily dismissing him. In hopes of catching Sam's attention, Lucifer turns his focus to the oldest Winchester: Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Satan

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:** "I really think Sam just doesn’t realize how smoking hot you are. Maybe a little jealousy would encourage him? Say, jumping Dean’s bones."
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is fan-run and this writer is not officially affiliated with the CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., and other official affiliates tied to the TV Show "Supernatural." This user does not claim ownership to the official content of Supernatural and does not seek profit off of the work produced presently. Plagiarism of this current story will not be tolerated and will be reported following AO3's terms of service. The stories, additional characters I create, are mine. This story was not created for profit. Making profit is deemed copyright infringement unless sanctioned by copyright holders (i.e. CW Network, Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros., etc.). Copyright infringement can range from paying a fine to actual jail time. Please do not claim this story as yours! Please do not sell this story! Please do not reproduce this story! All violators will be reported and dealt with severely! 

Dean will swear up and down that this was not his doing. He was minding his own business, fixing up Baby outside in Bobby’s yard when Satan decided to drop on by. Dean scrambled for a weapon, hitting his head against the underside of the Impala and clutching onto a socket wrench. Lucifer looked bemused in the afternoon sunlight, eyeing Dean contemplatively before snapping his fingers. 

Dean learned fast from that Trickster that when something supernatural snaps its fingers, prepare for a whole world of pain and embarrassment. Dean did not expect to find himself in the Impala’s backseat laid down, hands smoothly pulling his jeans down, fingers slipping through the slit of his boxers to pull his flaccid length out. Dean smacked the blond devil hard with the socket wrench, earning a deep snarl that made Baby shudder before the wrench simply vanished. 

“Son of a bitch -- you get off me you son of a fuckin’ -- _shit. F-F-Fuck._ ” Dean was meant to vividly explain how he was going to rip Lucifer in two. It began with welding Lucifer’s manipulative mouth shut followed by running him over with the Impala a few times. It was a long list. But the list sort of died in his throat when a cool mouth was over his length, taking him fully in without a hitch. Dean would like to preach to the choir that he was in no way batting for the same team. He liked chicks. And tits. G-spots and G-strings. It’s just when you have someone who obviously is a pro at this because Jesus, that tongue was tracing the crown like it was meant to be worshiped. The point is, you just don’t say ‘no’ to someone who knows what they’re doing, right? Right?! Dean’s thoughts of trying to justify his sexuality was silenced as Lucifer let Dean’s hardened length slip out of his lips with an obscene sound. Tongue teased the slit until he was dribbling precum, watching with bewildered green eyes as it was lapped up greedily. 

Dean should not be turned on by that. Wait, didn’t Lucifer want to wear Sam? The whole creeper love is deeper love?

Lucifer drew back as if hearing his thoughts and Dean’s hand came flying out, threading into blond hair, pulling him back down. “Oh fuck no,” he spat in insult. Dean will swear up and down that was all Lucifer. He was possessed or mind controlled like in Star Wars. Just like how he later on ended up pressed against the roof of the Impala, one hand reached back to hold onto a bare shoulder as he slid down to meet Lucifer’s eager arousal. The devil bucked up, sliding fully in and pulling out a hiss followed by a thick groan from the hunter. They remained there, cool breath on his back and the radio singing out a Kansas song. 

“Fuckin’ move already,” Dean growled out and hands latched onto his hips, pulling him up before hips snapped up. The hunter was sweating by the time his prostate was being hit, the heat of being outside and in the car making him absolutely pleased the Devil made quick work of their clothes. It was a relief that Lucifer was cool as a cucumber. Literally. The sensation of the coolness of his skin slipping inside his worked entrance made him instinctively clench, giving a damn smug look when he heard a graveled out groan leave the archangel.

A cool hand was running across his back and the Winchester arched into it, beginning to pick up the pace. Despite how awkward the fit was back there, he was able to lift and bring his body down, able to catch blue eyes glowing through the rearview mirror. Slicked sound of wet flesh slapping and being sucked in made Dean ache, missing out on the sound of shoes crunching on the dirt floor or the soft intake of air in surprise. Dean was pleasantly in a one-track state of mind, leaning back into the devil when a hand wrapped around him, pumping him in time. Dean shamelessly grunted and groaned, feeling the muscles in his thighs tremble from exertion. Hips were pounding relentlessly into him now in a growing fervor, already feeling a bruise begin to form on his backside. Dean gave a shout as he came into Lucifer’s hand, clenching hotly around the blond as his body spasmed, clean hand slapping over Dean’s eyes. Light briefly spilled over as he felt the archangel spill into him soon after and than Lucifer was gone. 

Dean made a face as he ended up alone in the backseat, aware that he was leaking into the upholstery and smelled of sex -- and when did Bob Dylan start playing? Catching his breath, he laid a hand on his chest before turning to his right to spot Sam. Glowering at him. The older Winchester poorly tried to cover himself, instead successfully sliding a few inches across the back seat with a loud wet whine of leather and flesh. Dean gave an unintelligent sound, gaping at his younger brother who looked more than pissed. He looked crushed. 

“Uh....ergh...you didn’t see that now, did you?” Dean asked hopefully, giving a lopsided grin but judging by the way Sam stormed away...he’s guessing he did. Rubbing his forehead, he slid out of the car to stare at the mess Lucifer failed to help him clean up. “Thanks, you son of a bitch.” Picking and looking for his clothes, he ignored the nagging feeling that he was being laughed at from a distance and how sore his backside felt.

“Stupid Satan.”


End file.
